


Honest Feelings

by ringomido



Category: Free!
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Makoto's thoughts on Haru, rly gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringomido/pseuds/ringomido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto just can't stop thinking about Haru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honest Feelings

He’s more beautiful than anyone I have ever known. He is as fluid as the water he loves and is ever still amongst everyone else. Yet he ripples when I come near and it expands and his eyes become rivers and the smile he gives me is enough. He takes my hand and scoffs at my nickname I refuse to give up because it reminds me of once upon a time when it was him pulling me along and when he was the one looking down at me and even if he explains that we’re too old for such petty things, he smiles and I catch a glimpse of rain falling and it’s okay. He’s flexible yet destructive and I accept it all with eager arms. He floods into me and engulfs me and we’re suddenly waist deep in this ocean full of life. And as much as I wish I could tell him that I’m afraid and that I’m still not ready to confront those fears of unforgiving death, he tightens his grip and even within this cold, he’s warm and sea blue eyes are beginning to flow once again.

He is as welcoming as a warm bath is after hard, tiresome days. It neither scolds hot nor leaves me cold—it’s just right. And as we walk home together and the ocean is behind us melting into the sun that drips behind it, we part ways but it’s still okay because I know he’ll ask for help with dinner and I’ll offer my house and he insists on cooking for me and my heart is just as warm as the evening baths that I know he’ll push on to me-- and that I’ll take, gladly. And as the routine comes into place and he gives me what he can only offer from what little he has, I’ll smile and I know he’ll smile back because when alone, he can only grow warmer still in the seclusion of our thoughts and knowing gazes.

He is home and a sanctuary to me; as for everyone else, he is but something familiar to what they can only guess what a home can be. For me, he is everything and more. And I know that I am that to him as well; we share the memories together of growing up and through loss we’ve only held on tighter. I know his thoughts at a glance and he can read me like an open book on display. He is calming and persistent, as any river flowing through our town and it’s what leads me on. He is life and family and home.

And I cannot help but love him for all of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Really quick little writing piece I did during Writing Class while listening to this cute little mash up. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1685kBMq5SU


End file.
